All Texts Are Political
by David Holper
I spent a couple of hours
looking for the perfect article on the web to explain this, but I couldn't find
it. I'm sure it's out there, but
apparently, though this idea can be found in myriad texts, there was no one
text that was focused solely on this topic.
So here it is: All texts are
political.
What does this mean
exactly?
It means that when an author
crafts a story, she is doing it with a particular understanding of the world in
terms of gender, history, language, and ultimately, all these things have to do
with power--the power to assert a way of being, the power power to challenge
conventional ways of being, the power to persuade, the power to cause assent to
existing social structures.
When we as readers encounter
these texts, we are, in a sense, being indoctrinated into the author's
worldview. Typically, before we examine
the texts more thoroughly, we may find ourselves reacting to the text on an
unstated level. For instance, many of
us have been swept away by a text into a world that we find far more compelling
than our own. For some of us, these
texts involved other worlds or definitely adventures far beyond the mundane
limits of our day-to-day experiences.
Also, we may have encountered texts that repelled us: texts that not
only did not correspond with our understand of the world but may have even
challenged our understanding to the degree of discomfort that we did not want
to read further.
Regardless, texts are never
neutral, nor should our understanding of them be so.
Consider, for instance, a
story that we're all familiar with, The Wizard of Oz. Aside from the political allegory that
Frank L. Baum clearly intended, the text posits an understanding of the world
in terms of character types. Dorothy,
who is honest and good, triumphs over all adversaries, including the Munchkins,
who are somewhat indifferent to her, being themselves afraid of further
political or military engagement with outside forces; the Witch, who is
obviously evil; the Wizard, who is a patent humbug, i.e., an utter fake; and
various other peoples and forces along the way. With all comers, she is able to either create allies or to
overcome enemies. At the heart of this
understanding of character is that Dorothy's purity of heart, honesty, and kindness
can undermine and topple political and militaristic authority, even if that
authority is bristling with power and malice toward her.
Beyond this, however, we
might fairly easily deconstruct the story from a feminist angle. For instance, we might note that women in
this text are either pure of heart (as are Dorothy and Glinda, the good witch)
or they are evil crones, as are the witch sisters. In contrast, males figures tend to be false representations of
power, such as the Cowardly Lion, the Wizard, etc. Men can play useful roles in this narrative, but only as
assistants to Dorothy, and even then, their power derives from kindness to her,
concern for her well-being, or defense of her (as helpless maiden). All real magic and power are invested in the
female figures, for good or ill.
At its heart, the story
seeks to persuade us to believe in a certain way of being, which we might
describe as feminine, altruistic, gentle, honest, and plain—for, after all,
Dorothy is nothing exceptional, in that she is a farmgirl from Kansas. Yet what seems ordinary, in our world,
becomes extrordinary in Baum's imaginary one.
Such analysis can easily be
applied to any text: The trick is to think about what the author's worldview is
attempting to get you, the reader, to understand and buy into. Along with this, you must remember to look
for where power resides in the social structure the author describes—and what
the narrator's and/or protagonist's relationship is to that power. Never assume that the author is neutral, for
she is not: At the heart of every text, the author writes with the attempt to
convince us of something. It is that
something that we both must understand and weigh carefully. And to do that means that we must measure
the text against our own beliefs and ways of understanding. It is in this process that we both stretch
our own view of the world to embrace ideas that we have not yet encountered;
that we resist those ideas that we find abhorrent; that we come into contact
with ideas that challenge our own—and in so doing, we become more than readers:
we become active participants in building that text.